


We're really doing more of this, huh

by GlitterGluwu



Series: Assorted Minifics [8]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathing/Washing, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Cat/Human Hybrids, Catboys & Catgirls, Cock Warming, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Genderbending, Groping, Harems, Large Breasts, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Multi, Orgy, Pregnancy, Scenting, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Change, Sex Work, Step-Sibling Incest, Teasing, Trans Bernadetta von Varley, Trans Caspar von Bergliez, Trans Claude von Riegan, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 11,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24920821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterGluwu/pseuds/GlitterGluwu
Summary: Further minifics for Fire Emblem: Three Houses.Chapter One: Hilda & Claude & Lorenz, rated T, a/b/o, pre-heatChapter Two: Sylvain/Lorenz, rated M, a/b/o, pre-heatChapter Three: Edelgard/Claude, rated T, pregnancy, angst with a happy endingChapter Four: Dimitri/Edelgard, rated M, a/b/o, presentationChapter Five: Black Eagles/Caspar & Linhardt/Caspar, rated E, orgy, birthday sexChapter Six: Petra/Ashe & Petra/Bernadetta & Petra/Ignatz, rated T, harem, pregnancyChapter Seven: Claude/Hilda, rated E, voyeurism&exhibitionism, sex worker AU, dubconChapter Eight: Dimitri/Sylvain, rated M, magical sex change & teasingChapter Nine: Sylvain/Ferdinand, rated E, semi-public blowjobsChapter Ten: Claude/Dimitri/Edelgard, rated T, catpeopleChapter Eleven: Dimitri/Edelgard, rated M, swaddlingChapter Twelve: Claude/Dimitri/Edelgard, rated T, catpeople & dogboyChapter Thirteen: Dimitri/Sylvain, rated T, mpreg/dogboy/puppiesChapter Fourteen: Dimitri/Sylvain, rated M, genderbend/groping/bathingChapter Fifteen: Dedue/Dimitri + Sylvain, rated E, A/B/O and voyeurism
Relationships: Black Eagles/Caspar von Bergliez, Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Edelgard von Hresvelg/Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Edelgard von Hresvelg/Claude von Riegan, Ferdinand von Aegir/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester & Hilda Valentine Goneril & Claude von Riegan, Petra Macneary/Ignatz Victor, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Lorenz Hellman Gloucester
Series: Assorted Minifics [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618864
Comments: 13
Kudos: 125





	1. Hilda, Claude & Lorenz

**Author's Note:**

> ..... The title is phoned in and I apologize. I've written enough of these minifics that I really just can't believe how many there are. (Thirty-four - including these - for FE3H specifically and ninety-one in total! That's BONKERS!) Maybe I'll change it when I feel a little more creative in general, haha.
> 
> As is the norm lately, I've only been uploading things to AO3 on Thursdays! So the number for this first batch isn't as pretty as I usually like it to be, but here we are. I've really had a/b/o on the brain lately - these first couple were based in some requests I took (over Discord) for ships during pre-heat, though this first one isn't very shippy. Still! It was fun. I had fun c:
> 
> At any rate, I hope you guys like these!

“He can’t really think nobody notices,” Hilda mused, leaning in toward Claude’s side. He could already smell the interest rising off of her, waves of a muskier scent emerging from the cloud of fruity perfume she always tried concealing her alpha odor with. “Right?”

Claude shrugged. “Some people actually think of heats and ruts as an inconvenience instead of an excuse, Hilda. He’s probably trying to get some affairs in order before he goes under.”

“Ugh! Rude,” she scoffed. Nonetheless, her eyes never strayed from their classmate; Lorenz had one of his tomes at the lunch table with him, and even a table away Claude could see his lips moving with his muttering. Claude had the sense that Lorenz had good reason to cram as much as he was able before his heat truly set in - the professor was pushing their class to promote this month and Lorenz was no doubt one of their victims - but he wondered, idly, whether it was really worth pushing himself when he was so close to his heat. Hilda put it more bluntly than he dared, even in the privacy of his mind; “If he squelches when he stands up, I’m going to tell him to go to bed. I can smell him from  _ here!” _

Claude shook his head, smirking behind his palm. “Careful, Hilda. Enough raunchy comments out of you, and people are going to think you’re after him.”

She turned to him at last, pursing her lips. “I’m not so  _ rotten _ as to come on to an omega so close to their heat! Really, Claude, who do you think I am?”

“More like you know you don’t have the stamina to fuck for three days straight.  _ Ow,” _ he huffed, when Hilda smacked him on the arm.

“But really, I’m worried! I don’t know if he can tell how much he smells,” Hilda crooned, turning back to their classmate. Claude did likewise - was Lorenz’s complexion pinker than before? “I don’t think he would try courting alphas this way. Maybe someone should talk to him!”

“You sound like you’re expecting  _ me _ to do that,” Claude sighed. He didn’t need her reminder that he was the house leader  _ or _ her expectant look; he was up and out of his chair in another moment, groaning with the effort. To his immediate surprise, Hilda was close behind. He raised his eyebrows at her over his shoulder, but as manipulative as she could be, he knew it really was against her nature to try taking advantage of a heated omega.

“Alright, Lorenz,” Claude cut in, not wanting to waste too much effort on small talk when he knew how close Lorenz was to tipping over, “Up and at ‘em, you stink to Faerghus and back.”

Lorenz seemed to startle at the words, looking even pinker beneath the shelter of his bangs than he had across the table; he pulled at his collar and stammered, “Claude, I assure you that I can discern when I’m at risk and when I’m -”

“That doesn’t mean you should push yourself too far!” Hilda huffed, shuffling her feet in the childish way she did so often. It made Claude smirk to see how it made Lorenz’s eyes go wide. “Honestly. Come on now, we’ll keep you safe on the way back. You need to rest before it hits you properly.”

“I doubt anyone will bother with coming onto me when the dorms are just next door,” Lorenz retorted, though he still spent a moment to collect his things before standing. The closeness was enough to set even Claude’s beta senses alight, basking in the scent of a field of lavender, buzzing in his sinuses with every inhale. In times like these, he could see why Hilda whined about not smelling nicer, even if her musk had its charms too; it was all he could do to keep himself from leaning in, taking in more of that calming aroma.

As much as he resisted, however, and as cool as Lorenz tried to play it, he did notice his classmate walking closer to his side than usual on their way to the dorm. He couldn’t help but smile and allow it - Hilda was always so snappy around her ruts, he tended to forget that the omegan impulse took an entirely different form.

On a whim, he playfully hooked his arm in Lorenz’s as they walked. At Lorenz’s startle, he chirped, “Hey, might as well get some touch comfort while you’ve got us around, right?”

_ “What!” _ Hilda gasped, leaning around Lorenz’s tall frame to balk at them. Claude half expected her to tease them, to say she’d never expected to see a Riegan and a Gloucester getting along so casually; instead, she hooked her arm in Lorenz’s opposite and said, “No fair if I don’t get a chance, too!”

Claude huffed his amusement. Lorenz looked little more than shocked and flustered - it hardly surprised him, considering the three of them had hardly held a consistent track record of mutual affection - but his expression settled into one of bewildered contentment, apparently choosing, for once, not to look this particular gift horse in the mouth.

A low rumble rolled its way out of Lorenz’s chest, music to Claude’s ears. His purr grew louder when he parted his lips and muttered, “You’re a curious one, Claude.”


	2. Sylvenz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More pre-heat requests! I really liked this one!

Sylvain entered the common area like a gas leak; he filtered in through the door and promptly expanded to take up as much room as possible. He started with a stretch and a groan, then opened his eyes and peered around the room. Lorenz, unfortunately, was slow to look away - it was likewise his misfortune to be among the only ones there, with little chance (and no alphas) to draw Sylvain’s attention away.

“Lorenz! What’s a charmer like you doing, sitting alone?” Sylvain chirped as he approached. Lorenz could smell his impending heat on him like the sun cresting over a hill, bright and eye-catching and inevitable. He sighed and Sylvain slumped into the cushions next to him, already purring and smiling.

“Sylvain, I am quite sure neither of us has ever mistaken me for one of your conquests. If you are out to find a bedmate for your heat, I am not your man.”

“Hey, what are you writing?” Sylvain prodded, ignoring Lorenz’s protests; he pressed into his side and peered down at his notebook, and only then did Lorenz jerk into action and slam it shut. Nobody needed to be reading his poetry, but certainly not Sylvain. The man in question hardly appeared put out by it, for his part - he pursed his lips and shrugged. “I mean, if memory serves, we’re equally guilty on that front, Lorenz. How many times did I catch you putting on airs hours before  _ your _ heat, back in the day?”

Lorenz felt his face grow warm. He scoffed, searched for a reply, and found none. Sylvain, in the meantime, edged even closer, briefly settling his chin on Lorenz’s shoulder before he shrugged it off. “What are you after, Sylvain?” Lorenz at last diverted.

“Nothing! Just a cuddle,” Sylvain said. “Have a heart, won’t you? You’re not too far off from yours, either, and my poor omegan self just gets so anxious without a little touch comfort to loosen me up.”

To his credit, his expression looked… innocent. Perhaps innocent in a way that  _ Claude _ might overcompensate when he was off on his own schemes, but Lorenz, nonetheless, felt compelled to allow it. Perhaps it was his own pre-heat sneaking up on him, making him soft.

“Very well,” he grumbled, and Sylvain wasted little time in smilingly nuzzling the side of his head. “Augh,  _ Sylvain,” _ Lorenz complained, confronted by a burst of Sylvain’s pervasive, milky-sweet scent. “I don’t understand how you can bear to be this  _ close.” _

“Pre-heat cuddles are the best kind,” Sylvain said simply. He traced the tip of his nose under the curve of Lorenz’s ear, pressing a sweet little kiss to the edge of his jaw; it was all much more chaste than Lorenz had assumed him capable, but still a bit much when he had never before indulged in what Sylvain called  _ pre-heat cuddles. _ He could feel as much as hear the purr rolling out with his voice when he added, “Just relax into it, you’ll like it.”

“You don’t know what I like,” Lorenz reasoned. The logic was, of course, flawed - he  _ did _ like this, and he liked it more with every soft kiss that trailed down to his scent gland, and he liked it even more than that when Sylvain rubbed his cheek there. He wasn’t so obnoxious with it as Lorenz’s rare sexual conquests. For once, he could truly relax into the contact, savor the touch, the heat, and the intimacy. His lips were soft, his tongue even softer when it darted out.

Sylvain placed a hand on his chest, and Lorenz didn’t stop him. He realized that he was purring, too, and while he would normally have been embarrassed…

“Damn,” Sylvain chuckled.

“Hm?”

“I didn’t realize you were closer than I was. Want some company?”

His brain was sluggish, his mind awash in the haze that was Sylvain. He opened his eyes, feeling as if they weighed a ton. “I beg your pardon?”

Sylvain’s eyes crinkled in amusement. He leaned in and spoke directly into Lorenz’s ear. “Baby, I can smell your slick from here.”

He was up and out of his seat in an instant, swiping his notebook off the end table while Sylvain barked in laughter. “Hey, don’t be embarrassed! I knew you’d like it, anyway,” he teased, and Lorenz barely spared a glance back.

Dear goddess, there was a dark spot on the cushion next to Sylvain. Lorenz placed his hand over his mouth, Sylvain’s laughter ringing in his ears, and found himself at his room in record time.


	3. EdelClaude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a ship I've wanted to write for a LONG time!..... I don't think I quite got the brainworms out tbh. Ugh, I need to indulge my Claude Ships more, I don't feel like I really know how to write him in a way that satisfies me yet. Anyway! I was in the mood to knock Edelgard up for her birthday, so I did.

Khalid had always had a passion for misdirection. He was like a magician, Edelgard thought - not the kind who used actual magic, but produced it from the mundane. His schemes, inasmuch as they could be called that, seldom amounted to much more than deliberately keeping one’s attention trained on something flashy or elaborate while he carried out his true aim.

“You make quite the performer,” Edelgard sighed into the careful press of his fingers, grinding into all the tender spots on her head. He’d asked to play with her hair, but he seldom attempted anything at all with it before taking care to massage her head.

“You don’t say.”

“It makes me wonder what you  _ would _ have looked like, if you’d chosen to dress up at Fort Merceus.”

“We could always find out,” Khalid proposed. If Edelgard closed her eyes, she could picture his words dancing up and down, merry and bright and stepping with so much energy one might never discern how  _ lightly _ they took care to fall. “Are you confessing to some  _ proclivities, _ Princess?”

She chose not to comment on his choice of title; she’d long since taken it for granted that “Princess” would forevermore be his pet name for her, no matter how insistently she objected or how public their exchange. By now, it was more worrisome to hear him call her Emperor. “You never did answer my question,” she said softly, and she felt his fingers grow still.

Her hair rustled as he sighed. He made one final attempt; “What question, milady?”

She placed a hand over her still-flat stomach and lifted her chin, viewing him upside-down. His eyes betrayed more of his trepidation than his voice. “Where will they live?” 

Khalid didn’t answer for a moment. He combed his fingers through Edelgard’s hair, then exhaled, seeming to accept that his distraction hadn’t worked. He let his hands fall and rounded the chaise, falling onto the seat beside her and leaning into her side.

“As fast as you are on your wyvern -”

“Come now, Princess, you’ve known her long enough to call her by name!”

“I will  _ not _ call the animal  _ Barf -” _

“I told you, it means something different in -”

“Khalid,” Edelgard cut him off sharply, “Will you give this some real thought? It’s an important question.” When he at last fell silent, she echoed, “As fast as you are on  _ Snow, _ I hardly believe you’ll achieve anything of substance in your political duty if you’re crossing the Throat every other day.”

“And merging our nations is off the table,” Khalid replied. It was half a question - she knew he was still holding out hope, and it broke her heart. As reluctant as he was to show it, he had the softest heart and most idealistic nature of anyone she’d gotten to know so well; as much as she’d come to love him, it could be inspiring, vexing and saddening in equal measure.

“I’d like them to know you, at least,” she murmured. “I feel it will help them a great deal, knowing their father’s experienced what they’re bound to go through.”

“Mhm.” Khalid slid downward in the seat. “All things considered, it’d be nice to believe that things could be better for them than they were for us.”

“It’s what any parent wants.”

He closed his eyes and she reached upward, finding his hair, seeking to comfort him as he might comfort her. His hair was so much thicker than hers - infinitely touchable, begging exploration. She wondered whether their children would have hair like this. She hoped they would.

“Well,” he said, finally, smiling wistfully before he opened his eyes, leveling her with his steady green gaze, “you plan on abdicating eventually, don’t you?”

“There’s much to be done before -”

“I have enough siblings,” Khalid put forward, and it took a moment for Edelgard to process the suggestion. “And hey, what was the metaphor Ferdinand used? Life as a simple drone, circling a queen, doesn’t sound so bad.”

Edelgard’s mouth dropped open. He laughed warmly, then straightened himself, tucking his arm around her.

“Give me a couple months. I’ll be back for the birth, I promise.”

Edelgard had few illusions about herself. She was dedicated more to her reforms than she was to the concept of a family; if her birth control potion hadn’t failed, she would never have even considered it. It was Khalid who begged her to keep it, Khalid who wanted more than anything to introduce their child to this brave new world.

It felt like so much to accept, and yet - she swallowed, blinked back the burning in her eyes, and rasped, “I’ll hold you to that.”


	4. DimiGard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write Edelgard presenting as an omega! And I love her with Dimitri! It was THAT simple, babey!!!!

For the first time since selecting the low heels she wore with her uniform, Edelgard regretted her choice of footwear. For the most part, they came much in handy; an inch or so of extra height boosted her from the recipient of playful derision to an indulgent kind of respect without drawing much attention to her effort. It was a small victory, but she knew how much she needed it.

She was so unsteady on her feet that day, though. Hubert had been the first to comment on it when she’d tripped on the low step up from the courtyard, and she’d been quick to dismiss his concerns; she continued having such incidents throughout the rest of the day, however, enough that  _ Caspar _ saw fit to comment on it. That, above all else, gave her ample reason to worry.

She adjusted her collar as the class filtered out for their lunch hour, sighing to herself. It was unseasonably warm for Wyvern moon, enough that she found herself sweating beneath her blazer.

Hubert had departed on some secretive business of his own. It was an event that would generally give Edelgard a breath of fresh air, but somehow - somehow it incited an ache in her chest, a desperation, a unique brand of  _ loneliness _ she hardly recognized. It was enough to give her pause.

She was a beta, if not by biology, then by circumstance. The Crest experiments had taken place before the onset of primary puberty, and though blood tests in childhood had dubbed her an omega, her presentation had never come afterward. Edelgard had hardly minded, ultimately - she couldn’t imagine how much more difficult her path would become if she were forced to spend a matter of days holed up in her quarters once per month.

But then, everything about her present predicament seemed… No, it couldn’t be.

“Edelgard?” came a voice. It was familiar to her, but not so much as her own classmates. “Are you quite alright?”

She didn’t realize that she’d slumped forward onto her desk until she laboriously parted her eyelids to see Dimitri squatting next to her, surveying her with an upturned brow. She sucked in a breath and tried to sit up - but another dizzying sensation surfaced, and she fell forward again, her trajectory softened by Dimitri’s lunging for her -

Oh, he smelled divine. She favored sweet scents as well as tastes as a rule, but he smelled - of sweat, and of pine, of cool soil in the depth of winter -

“El?” he asked, soft, from above. She opened her eyes into his blazer, her entire head abuzz with curious warmth, and inhaled again. That was right, the Lions performed group training before lunch hour. She stretched upward, pursuing more of that sweat-scent, and Dimitri grew stiff. “Edelgard! Oh, I’ll - I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t realize -”

She drew her tongue over what she could reach of his neck, shuddering with heat. Heat. Oh, dear, oh  _ no - _

“I can,” Dimitri grated out, trembling with the effort of holding himself back from her. She appreciated it, in a distant sort of way. The forefront of her mind chastised her for not pushing closer, for not parting her - oh, she was wet, all the way down to her  _ knees _ she was wet - but her hindbrain was shamed, humiliated, furious at caving so readily to such a dangerous situation. “I’ll s-send for - er, Manuela? Or Linhardt?”

“Hubert,” she supplied, and her hindbrain balked at how high, how reedy, how  _ wanting _ her voice was even to her own ears.

“Yes,” Dimitri gasped, paused, and she felt his hands rubbing at her shoulders, his scent pulsing ever stronger. At last, he extracted himself from her hold, leaving her to fall forward. Thank goodness she wasn’t forced to stand on those newly-problematic heels of hers. “I’ll - someone will be here for you in a moment,” he stammered, and despite herself, she sobbed as he stepped away.

This was unbearable - she felt as if her body was rending itself in half as he parted from her. She could hear him falter as she hiccuped around her tears, but he forced himself away and closed the classroom doors behind him.

Thank the goddess. And  _ damn _ that boy into the flames.


	5. Black Eagles/Caspar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was his BIRTHDAY!!!! I had to do something. He's trans here, his main relationship is with Linhardt, and I didn't really feel quite right tagging Everybody so I tagged the main players. Enjoy!

He seriously couldn’t feel his legs anymore.

Edelgard, true to his common impression of her, was chattier when it made him uncomfortable - not that Caspar really had the energy to think too hard when he’d already had Dorothea, Hubert, Ferdinand, Bernie,  _ and _ Petra fuck him in either or both of his holes. It was all he could do to whine, high-pitched, into Linhardt’s thigh as Edelgard thrust into his cunt, alternately oversensitive and numb. “It’s funny,” Edelgard breathed, “My own birthday isn’t too far behind us, but nobody was so considerate as to organize something like this for me.”

Sounds of discomfort from Hubert and Ferdinand reached him, and Caspar managed a breathless laugh. Linhardt piped up, “All due respect, Edelgard -”

“From you? Is it not a given?”

Linhardt didn’t laugh, but Caspar could hear the amusement in his voice. “Your boyfriends are traditionalists, Edelgard. And they’re cocky. All I mean to suggest is that if they  _ had _ known that a party like this would suit your desires, they would still have tried at the same result with only two participants.”

“I resent this assessment of me, Linhardt!” Ferdinand huffed, and laughter rung throughout the room. When Caspar turned his head, Hubert was somewhat more quietly pouting next to him, no less miffed for Bernadetta’s presence on his lap.

“In summary, Edelgard -”

“I’ve got,” Caspar interjected, pausing to swallow, “the best boyfriend.”

It was weird, seeing Edelgard smile that softly while still pistoning in and out of him. “We’ll agree to disagree,” she murmured, and jerked forward, driving a surprised cry from his mouth.

“So you  _ can _ still talk. I thought you’d burned yourself out with all that screaming at Petra.”

“I  _ will _ be the one winning,” Petra chimed in.

“Yeah,” Caspar agreed, his voice pitching higher as Edelgard drove progressively harder, not quite  _ hitting _ his sweet spot but setting just the kind of rhythm he liked, “S-so far - you are.”

Edelgard’s expression fell. “Is that so?” she pouted, her typical clipped tone contrasting how she heightened her efforts, driving a half-pained gasp from him when she  _ finally _ grazed that spot. “I suppose -” she lifted his leg, forcing his thigh flush with his torso - “I’ll have to accept this loss.”

He yelped, then yelped again - his voice was rough, he was half-surprised he could even scream anymore - and Edelgard forced his other leg up too, bending him in half, pounding mercilessly right where he needed it. His hand reached up, seeking comfort without him even registering it, until Linhardt took it and squeezed it. Caspar tilted his chin, searching between his tears and his squint for Linhardt, Linhardt, and saw him there, smiling softly at him while Dorothea drew his hair back from his shoulder and lay distracting little kisses there.

Linhardt said something, drowned out by Caspar’s screaming - he quieted only quickly enough to see Dorothea part her lips from Linhardt’s skin and hook her chin over his shoulder to smile down at him. “He’s such a cute little boy,” she crooned, echoing her sweet praises from earlier that night, and that was enough for him.

One moment, Edelgard was bending him in half; in the next, he was propped against a familiar chest, a familiar shoulder, drool smearing over his lip as he drew up and looked around. Everyone was clustered together now, not quite asleep but definitely winding down. Edelgard was still near him, and when she spotted him she did a double take.

“Oh, good,” she sighed, pressing a hand to her chest. “I was worried that I’d gone too far.”

“Wait, how long did I…”

“A few minutes. We took it for granted that you’d finally passed out - honestly, Linhardt seemed convinced you were out for the night.”

Caspar scoffed, wrestling himself up onto his elbows, then, realizing his arms were jelly now, slumped back into Linhardt’s shoulder. “As if I’d pass out before Linhardt got a chance! That was the whole point of tonight.”

“What, you don’t remember?” Linhardt questioned him, and when Caspar managed to crane his neck toward him, his expression was open and affronted. “I took my chance, Caspar. Just after Edelgard. How very like you to forget.”

“Lin, don’t,” Dorothea snickered. “He’ll actually believe you.”

“Ugh, but I’m  _ tired,” _ Linhardt whined. Caspar couldn’t help laughing - Dorothea’s sound of indignation on his own behalf was touching, yeah, but he was no less amused for it.

“Guess I got brought down to your level,” he slurred, nuzzling into Linhardt’s neck. He smelled like sweat - or maybe that was him. Somebody smelled. “‘S okay, next time I’ll ride the flames outta you.”

A hand in his hair. Caspar hummed. “I’ll hold you to that,” spoke that perfect, familiar voice, and that was enough for him.


	6. Petra/Archers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized at some point that I really have a VERY specific type I ship Petra with.... And that type is "Dainty Archers". (Or, well, archers in general. I like her with Leonie too.) Ever since, I've thought about her as the queen of Brigid with her trio of cuties, living out their days in peace, and I decided to turn that dream into a reality yesterday.
> 
> I have a little goal to write a minific focusing on each of the Student characters at least once, and conveniently, these four were all on the list of kids I had yet to write Specifically about!!!...... But I dunno that I focused on ALL of them enough that I can justify crossing all four of them off just yet. Maybe just Petra? We'll see.

The words came abruptly, startling the trio out of their conversation. “You have been speaking in Fodlish. Is there some secret you are keeping?”

Ashe was the first to break from their secretive little huddle; Ignatz and Bernadetta were frozen, wide-eyed like they truly hadn’t considered Petra might notice their behavior, even as woefully public as their conversation was. “Nothing in particular!” he said quickly. Too quickly - Petra’s eyes grew narrow.

“You are behaving suspiciously,” she pointed out. “You are being lucky that my family is not nearby. Tell me your secret.”

Bernadetta hid her face with a squeak; once again, Ashe was the first to reply. “Really, there’s no big secret… aside from curiosity, I suppose,” he chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. “I hope you’ll forgive me for saying so, but - we can’t help but notice that you seem to be growing.”

“Growing? Oh!” Her expression brightened all at once, suspicion vanishing in favor of elation. She placed a hand over her stomach, cupping the minute bump developing there. “You are wanting to know the child’s other parent.”

“More that we were wondering whether it was appropriate to ask whether there was a child at all,” Ignatz spoke up, emboldened by Petra’s favorable response. “You hadn’t mentioned it to us before, but… I suppose you’ve all but confirmed it, now.”

“I have been speaking to you many times about our child,” Petra murmured, only pausing after making the statement. She cocked her head to the side, then gasped. “Oh! The - Are you being confused, because the Brigidic word for - this -” she paused, gesturing to her abdomen - “is the same as the one for ‘seedling’?”

Ashe covered his mouth, but even he couldn’t hide the shameful flush bleeding into his cheeks. “I’m sorry -” he began, only to be cut off by Bernadetta exclaiming, “Oh! Oh, so that’s why you’ve been talking about - sowing seeds, and finding out who planted - oh, Petra, we thought -”

“I have understanding now,” Petra laughed, looking a little sheepish herself. “You are having my apologies. You are all learning so quickly, and I am feeling so excited…”

“Well, now we can share in the excitement!” Ashe assured her, positively glowing with elation. “About what you said earlier - do you know whose it is already?”

“Yes! I have been suspecting, but this morning I became knowing.”

“How so? Did you see a mage?” Ignatz asked, eyes sparking with curiosity. Petra smilingly shook her head.

“I have been knowing because of the seedling’s behaving. This seedling… This…”

“Seedling works,” Ashe assured her.

“Yes. It is most aggressive.”

“A-aggressive?!” Bernadetta squeaked, directing her shock directly at Petra’s stomach, as if some wild animal would leap from within it.

“I have been feeling much rage and anger,” Petra murmured, “I have felt my hunger as if it is eating my body. This seedling is a hunter, it is - it is a predator, like the one who planted it.”

The trio exchanged a worried glance. Petra held up a reassuring hand.

“The young predator is not knowing of its power,” she explained. “It is knowing only the safety of its mother, but it is no less vicious for this early fear. The young predator feels the same fear as the young prey. In this, they are the same. It is only with maturing that the predator craves blood, craves killing.”

“That sounds… frightening,” Ignatz whispered, his eyes wide. “The way you’re talking, Petra, I’m not so sure whether this child is any of ours.”

Petra burst out laughing. “Ignatz, what I am saying is that this seedling is no scavenger, like Ashe, nor prey, like Bernie. This seedling was planted by you!”

All at once, Ignatz’s face grew white. Ashe tentatively extended a steadying hand, as if afraid he’d keel right over; once it was clear that he would be doing no such thing, that arm went around his shoulders and Ashe crowed, “Congratulations!”

“Is it weird to be relieved…?” Bernadetta breathed, then rushed to add, “N-not to say that I won’t help! I j-just didn’t want to be the first - oh, that’s worse -”

Petra’s warm smile didn’t fade, didn’t budge an inch - and, at last, Ignatz began to melt. “I certainly hope its eyes are more reliable than mine,” he tittered, still breathless, and happily took Petra into his arms.


	7. HilClaude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was PURE self-indulgence. Be warned, Claude's a big ol creepazoid here.

_ “Pretty please?” Hilda pleaded, fluttering her long, dark eyelashes. “I feel like you’re the only one I can ask who won’t make it weird.” _

Her latest set was no particular marvel, on a production level. No studio space, no elaborate costumes, no special effort afforded to hiking her tits up or making her look smooth, flawless, enviable. It was just Hilda in a black sweatshirt cropped high enough to show off some underboob and an obscenely short, pleated white skirt. A return to form, in a way.

_ Five years of this, babes!!!! Is it too early to retire?? (Just kidding… I would never! >3>)  
_ _ Catch the rest of this set on OnlyFans! _

Khalid was meant to “edit” the pictures to look like some of her earlier works, but that was in and of itself a paradox; his earlier pictures were never edited, hardly even filtered or properly framed, just a selection of whichever in the flurry of phone pictures he’d snapped that he thought looked best. The fact alone that he had used his camera and not his phone meant they were a world above his earlier photos. He hadn’t been a  _ photographer _ when she first asked him to do this.

_ “I can’t believe I used to just  _ do _ this in public without any worries,” Hilda fidgeted, constantly adjusting her sweatshirt and glancing over her shoulder. The playground was deserted, completely devoid of any movement or sound. _

His favorite of this set was one he’d caught of her jumping off the swingset, her expression blown open in genuine thrill, genuine excitement. Her breasts were on full display and her arms were splayed out in the air, her skirt was inverted, her entire body nude in all but the most technical of ways. She had landed with a squeal that had made him wish he’d filmed that particular jump, though he did catch the way she teasingly juggled her boobs before tucking her shirt back down over them.

_ “Seriously! I used to kneel or sit wherever the heck I wanted. It’s a wonder I never caught any weird diseases,” she grumbled, carefully laying herself out over the woodchips, playing as if she had taken a tumble. _

None of the “fell off the swingset” pictures had turned out quite the way they wanted, but there were a couple Khalid had asked her to do that he felt more favorably toward - he’d had her lean forward over the railing on the plasticky watchtower and taken a few shots from behind and to the side. It was pretty nice seeing her slit between her thighs like that, or the forward sag of her breasts.

_ “Fifth anniversary, huh? It’s so weird, we’ve been doing this for so long,” Hilda hummed, tapping her fabric scissors against her work table. “Man, I wonder how many pictures you’ve taken of me total. Way more than any boyfriend ever would, I’d say.” _

He’d capped a thousand in their second year doing this. He tapped his fingers against his mouse, trying to get his mind back on track - but his hand moved on its own, clicking back to the Albums page and scrolling down, down through five years’ worth of steadily improving production quality.

_ “Don’t show me!” Hilda squeaked, shielding her eyes, “I don’t wanna see the old me, she’s embarrassing!” _

He scrolled down, down, past cosplays and collabs and various stages of nudity, until he saw her hair change from pink to brown, until he saw studio spaces change to prettied-up bedrooms change to bars, bathrooms, trails, all manner of discreet or distracting public settings from back before they’d become too polished, too popular.

_ “Imagine doing  _ this _ in public,” Hilda snickered, holding her legs up and apart while Khalid adjusted his focus on the tiny logo on her tiny panties. _

He hissed through his teeth as he found the album he’d made all too long ago dubbed ‘Favorites’, an album he’d updated less and less over the years. He pressed his fingers between his thighs, feeling his slit part around the seam of his shorts.

_“Start filming,”_ _Hilda told him without further explanation, her cheeks pink and her voice high. He barely fumbled his phone out of his pocket before she’d raced up to the officer and lifted her shirt, dancing goofily around before turning and running straight past him._

_ “You think if I get it wet, it’ll be see-through?” Hilda asked him, twirling in her new, gossamer-thin sundress. She ran and dove into the water before he could reply. _

There was his own hand, reaching into the frame as Hilda walked ahead of him in a skin-tight, strapless dress. He watched himself pull the zipper all the way down before Hilda screeched in mingled exhilaration and indignation, turning to him with her mouth wide open and each arm cradling a breast, not nearly fast enough to prevent her dress from falling all the way to the ground.

_ “CLAUDE!”  _ screamed the Hilda on his computer, bouncing in place, jiggling in so many places.  _ “You’re  _ so _ crazy!” _

Crazy, but not weird. The contrast had always made him laugh.

He rested his elbow on his desk, his cheek in his palm. He watched the video on repeat, slipping his palm into his shorts, and circled his fingers in the wetness he found there.


	8. Dimivain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, you know. Sometimes I just want them to mess with each other.

Certainly, Dimitri appreciated the struggle, but he couldn’t help but think Sylvain had placed less effort into finding a solution than he claimed. The last mock battle among the houses had been less of a grandiose affair than the previous and certainly less so than the Battle of the Eagle and Lion would be once it arrived, and as such, a certain someone’s preparations had been somewhat less… focused… than they might have been otherwise.

All this to say, when Sylvain had managed a sneak attack on the Black Eagles’ healer, Linhardt had retaliated in a very  _ unconventional  _ way.

The nature of the issue became immediately apparent as Dimitri approached Sylvain’s seat around his left side. From this vantage, he could just see the soft rise of his areola, deviating from the smooth line of his sizable breast, and it was all Dimitri could do to force his eyes to land on Sylvain’s face as he circled around his front. Even here, it was hard to ignore how far  _ down _ Sylvain wore his shirt unbuttoned - he could see a little diamond of his ribs beneath the new additions and it was, needless to say, endlessly distracting.

“Sylvain,” he said, very nearly flinching at the audible shake in his words, “How are you feeling?”

Sylvain straightened, and somehow it only made the situation worse - he slung an arm over the back of his chair, stretching his shirt taut over his chest, highlighting the clear shadow of either nipple through his shirt. “Honestly? I’m pretty alright,” he said, smiling lackadaisically. “I mean, I was pretty shaken and it sucked trying to breathe with my armor on, but Lin said it’d wear off eventually and it’s a lot easier with a plain shirt on. And I can’t pretend I’ve never been curious what it’d be like.”

“So… You’ve - c-confirmed the full extent of -”

“It affected me downstairs too, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Dimitri cleared his throat. “I see.” He cleared his throat again, and Sylvain wiggled his eyebrows. “Well - I must request that you… cover up. You’re… H-hanging out. It could be distracting.”

Sylvain’s expression fell. “Well, I would, your Highness, it’s just - well, I’ll show you,” he paused, bringing his arms forward and exhaling all the way as he pulled his shirt forward and attempted to button it. As he relaxed and breathed in, however, Dimitri heard a  _ snap _ and Sylvain’s breasts flew free.

“Shit, it didn’t do  _ that  _ before,” Sylvain cursed, pulling the button’s mangled strings through the hole along with the button itself. “But you see what I mean? I can try, but it won’t stay.”

The force with which his shirt had flown open had exposed the tiniest crescent of one areola. Dimitri swallowed. “Yes, I understand,” he said.

“Shame I didn’t get any shorter when he did this. I mean, I’ve got nothing against an Amazonian beauty, but maybe the shirt’d fit better.”

It was frightfully difficult to try coming up with a solution to this issue when his mind was so persistently blank. “I can ask whether Dedue has any shirts to spare,” Dimitri decided eventually. “In… I-in the meantime, I must insist that if you are incapable of keeping yourself decent, you should consider waiting out the duration of the spell in your own room. I will happily bring you food if you like, but we can’t have you… you know.”

Sylvain kept looking at him. It made it terribly difficult to speak.

At last, Sylvain’s smile eased back onto his face. “Bummer,” he yawned, stretching upward, and Dimitri thanked the goddess that the movement pulled his shirt back up to cover his areola - but then he stood and leaned forward, letting his shirt fall forward too, driving all the thoughts out of Dimitri’s head. “I hate missing class, you know,” he said, husky and low and nearly bordering on the masculine timber of his ordinary voice, “But maybe it’ll be a nice opportunity. You know, get a chance to take my new parts for a ride.”

Even his pants fit tighter around his hips; Dimitri hadn’t noticed until he stood up, but when he turned, his eyes followed first the pronounced curve of his breasts, then the bulge of his rear. It was a labor just to breathe as Sylvain sashayed away.

He paused at the door, sending a glance over his shoulder. “Dimitri,” he called, “you know I’m inviting you to follow, right?”

He didn’t have the breath to reply. Sylvain laughed low, approached, and reached for his hand, then turned for the door once again.


	9. Ferdivain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kind and lovely [nishtabel](https://twitter.com/nishtabel) was feeling the Hunger for some Ferdivain and chipped in for Ko-fi for me!!! These two are interesting, I think I want to write more of them :3c

Ferdinand’s thigh twitched and Sylvain took it for the excuse it was. He reached up and glided a soothing palm over the offending muscle, humming in delight at the sculpted plane he felt beneath Ferdinand’s slacks. The professor was really doing a number on their class, but Sylvain could feel the results beneath his fingertips and his head spun at the thought that this the development from a few short months into training under her; what would a full  _ year _ accomplish?

Maybe Ferdinand himself was just that quick a study, though. It was only, what - the second,  _ maybe _ third time that Sylvain had tasted his cock, and already Ferdinand was so much less… Ferdinand.

Or maybe, in a way, he was a little bit more  _ Ferdinand. _

He was easier to convince, for one thing. Much less prudish about the whole ordeal, much more willing to trust Sylvain when he told him nobody  _ ever _ used this set of stairs - Sylvain had to distract his mind from telling him that trust was not, in fact, a good thing - much less  _ intolerably loud. _

He was more touchy. He was more affectionate.

When Sylvain felt hands sliding through the hair on either side of his head, a reflex told him  _ alright, relax your throat. _ He waited for Ferdinand to grip, to pull him forward -

“Is something the matter?” Ferdinand asked, cocking his head. His voice was a little breathier than usual, but he sounded for all the world like a concerned classmate who had found Sylvain falling asleep in class.

Sylvain made the mistake of meeting his eye, of seeing how golden light through the window framed Ferdinand’s pretty reddish-blonde hair from behind, darkening his like-colored eyes and nearly obscuring the faint look of concern on his face. Saints, and Sylvain was just sucking his  _ dick. _

He shook his head without removing it, and Ferdinand hummed in mingled confusion and acceptance. “Carry on, then,” he said, and there  _ was _ this natural, understated authority to it. Princely, Sylvain thought. Was it some kind of social faux pas to call Ferdinand that, when the sovereign of his own country was formally a prince? Maybe less so from Ferdinand’s end than his own, but he figured it was still for the best that he keep the comparison to himself.

He pulled back and back, still expecting to be stopped by the tug of hair, either accidentally or on purpose - Ferdinand had never done either, because the first time they’d done this he had kept either hand resolutely knotted in his sauna pants - and slurped at the head of his dick, tracing around and back with puckered lips. He drew his tongue up the underside, pausing to make eye contact, imagining that he was freezing this moment in Ferdinand’s fragile, innocent -

“Would that I could have you painted like this,” Ferdinand breathed, and  _ wow, _ he had mastered the art of  _ eloquence during sex _ faster than Sylvain had previously thought possible. “Your likeness would be the loveliest masterpiece in all of Fodlan.” His brow creased. “Forgive me. The second loveliest.”

Sylvain broke from the tip of Ferdinand’s dick to kiss wetly along the side of it, pausing to humor him along the way. “Second to what?”

“Why, to yourself!” Ferdinand laughed like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Sylvain felt his face grow hot.

Blushing.  _ Him. _ Seiros and  _ Sothis, _ this guy. Sylvain endeavored to push past that particular exchange of words, stuffing his mouth with Ferdinand, pushing down until he was kissing bristly hairs and pulling back up, driving a high, shaking gasp from Ferdinand’s mouth. There, that was better.

It was until he felt his teeth brush skin, at least, and heard Ferdinand’s gasp bleed into a grunt. Damn. There went that record - he worked to make up for it without being asked, kissing and sucking apologetically, wondering whether Ferdinand could feel the pounding of his heart in his throat the same way he could. He continued bobbing down, all the way down, sliding back and making  _ sure _ teeth were nowhere in the equation this time. He still felt Ferdinand’s hands in his hair, not caressing the way they had before but just  _ there, _ and he kept his eyes right where they belonged -  _ closed. _

Ferdinand came. It was nothing particularly spectacular, barring the fact that he made sure to warn Sylvain it was coming. Sylvain only swallowed because he had nowhere to spit.

He wiped his mouth, still keeping his eyes trained downward, and reached for Ferdinand’s belt unbidden. Ferdinand allowed it, but he saw fit to add his own commentary, as usual, despite Sylvain wishing he wouldn’t.

“You were exemplary, Sylvain! As expected.”

“Thanks.”

“Although -” Sylvain glanced up, hating the way Ferdinand’s eyebrows tented themselves, “If I were so inclined, I might ask whether your heart was truly in it, today.”

Sylvain couldn’t help it. He fell forward, smothering laughter into Ferdinand’s thigh, ignoring the squawk of astonishment he got in return.

His  _ heart. _ Goddess, if only he knew.


	10. EdelDimiClaude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not at ALL certain of this ship name, but when have I ever been? At any rate, I want to apologize to subscribers to this collection for the absolute maelstrom of ficlets incoming. I'm posting five in one go because I've been on sick leave and had nothing else to do, haha.
> 
> Two of these are House Leader Threesome with Claude and Edelgard as catpeople and I kind of can't believe it? I didn't even mean to do that. BUT at any rate, here they are teasing human!Dimitri; if you wanna see them teasing dogboy!Dimitri, head on over to chapter twelve.

Her tail tickled, and his did not.

Dimitri recalled quite clearly how El’s more catlike fixtures had looked before her transformation, as it were - pretty pale brown that crept onto the bases of her ears before they tapered into white, a little dusting of brown over the spine of her tail that dissolved into the same white color. He’d always thought it so lovely, and was duly shocked when he discovered that they’d turned the same bright white color altogether as her hair. Her tail was like a cloud following her around now - not bad, but certainly different.

The flow of Claude’s fur was - sharper, more angular. Dimitri could see skin underneath the fur on his ears and the pattern of exactly how the hair grew in on his tail. When his tail lashed playfully back and forth, it was as if he were cracking a whip. Therefore, despite Claude having a greater likelihood and  _ desire _ to tickle him, Edelgard found much more success on that front.

Dimitri huffed unsteadily through his nose, trying not to offend either of them with his laughter. It was an honor to have become familiar enough with two former enemies that they’d feel comfortable competing for real estate in his lap, but it left Edelgard’s tail hanging over the edge of the loveseat, tickling just where his slacks tapered at the ankle.

He released another strained breath, and Edelgard cast a doubtful glance up at him. “You’re uncomfortable,” she observed.

“Not at all,” he countered, and her tail flicked, driving a tortured wheeze out of him.

“I think she’s calling you an uncomfortable seat,” Claude offered, butting his head against the underside of Dimitri’s chin, and  _ there _ it was, the tickle of Claude’s ear on his neck, the underside of his ear, his cheek - “Just relax,” Claude urged him in that easy, mischievous tone Dimitri had grown so familiar with - and so wary of.

Edelgard pursed her lips, perturbed at how he’d corrupted her intent. “That isn’t…” she muttered, one ear swiveling toward Dimitri before her eyes caught up to her attention. She blinked. “Are you crying?” she pressed, and thank goodness, thank the goddess, she brought herself to her knees, clearing her tail of the area of effect - but she nudged one knee between his, and he became instantly aware of an altogether different but no less pressing problem.

Dimitri’s shoulders were shaking; Edelgard was clear, but Claude was nuzzling, licking, purring at and around the corner of his jaw. Edelgard chided him, but Dimitri had the sense - just from knowing him - that Claude knew precisely what he was doing.

“Claude, he seems unwell,” Edelgard muttered, pulling in closer, brushing just at the peak of his groin, and Dimitri felt - warm, and -

“Yeah, I know just what he’s got,” Claude hummed, wriggling against him, teasing him with - oh, Goddess, he was - and he swiped his tongue over his cheek and whispered directly in his ear, “Cat scratch fever.”


	11. Dimigard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever heard of swaddling? NO? Well, you're in for a treat. It's basically one character having their cock inside another - not necessarily fucking, mind you - while they sleep together. Like cockwarming, except sleepy and cuddly. I learned about swaddling a few years ago in fandom and I just want to spread the joy, it's so cute...

Dimitri’s erection, in her mind, had a voice of its own.

She felt him hardening against her rear, half-asleep and warm, having been melting readily in his arms for - oh, she wasn’t sure. She knew the moon hadn’t yet been showing through the curtains when she’d closed her eyes, so she must have slept, but she felt like she’d been aware of every step in the process as he’d grown harder… some kind of awareness her body had more so than her mind did. 

Still, she imagined she could hear Dimitri’s sweet, plaintive voice from it.  _ El, if you wouldn’t mind…? _

She shifted around, attempting to accommodate it, and heard him exhale around a grunt. She blinked herself just a hair further awake. “D’mitri…?” she slurred, and he rumbled discontentedly back.

“Oh, El, I do apologize,” he said, gravelly from sleep - or perhaps merely from reclining for as long as he had. “I thought I was doing alright…”

His hand slipped over her stomach as she struggled to roll over, realizing after a moment that it was a fruitless endeavor; Dimitri held her trapped with her back to his chest, just the way they’d fallen into bed together hours earlier. She could still feel his cock probing at her and she groped backward, unsure what she planned to do with it but wanting to - well, she didn’t know. She was still asleep, it seemed.

“Don’t trouble your - self -” Dimitri breathed, her knuckles having just grazed hot-hard-heat through his smallclothes; she delicately wrapped her hand around it, her arm bent at a truly unpleasant angle to achieve it, and he objected through touch as well as through words. “No, El, I don’t need that, I swear to you.”

He gently straightened her arm down along her side and she pursed her lips despite herself. “You always seem so sure that I offer you service out of a sense of obligation,” she objected. “We fell asleep so quickly last night, we didn’t have a chance to… Perhaps I’d simply like to make up for lost time.”

“And perhaps I’m being honest when I say I would prefer not to do that,” Dimitri chuckled. Edelgard huffed her displeasure and he laughed a little more.

“Then what  _ would _ you prefer?” she countered at last. He fell silent, breathing against her, holding the whole of her stomach - and it had grown a fair bit, recently - in one hand.

“You might think it strange,” he admitted. “And we - we don’t have to.”

“State your case, that judgment may be passed.”

That prompted another laugh, and then his hand shifted lower, ghosting over the crease of one thigh. “Could I,” he began - she could hear him swallow - “Could I place it inside? Not to - you know -” he was still so shy about the oddest things - “but… just to feel you. I mean - as if you were cuddling me with your -”

“That  _ is _ strange,” she hummed. She dropped the closest hand and placed it over his, loosely hooking her fingers through his before dragging it closer to her sex. “But I suppose there’s no harm. It does sound intriguing.”

Edelgard could hear how his breath stuttered at that, felt him twitching against her ass again - he was so delightfully predictable, sometimes - so she took it upon herself to pull up her nightgown, spread her legs and pull her underwear aside. He adjusted his as well and slid home; it had become much easier to do this, she reflected, helped in no small part by how much more at  _ ease _ she felt in his presence now.

And it was… odd, maybe. Just having him inside. She couldn’t pretend it was  _ wholly _ comfortable, but not so much for the fact that it  _ was _ uncomfortable - more for the fact that him being there generally meant something more was in store.

As it was, he trailed sweet kisses down her cheek, down her neck, caressing her midsection in broad, warm hands. She turned into those kisses and caught the barest glimpse of his heavily-lidded blue eye, gazing on her with such awe and such love it nearly overwhelmed her. “How is it, El?” he whispered.

She rubbed one thigh over the other, giving it some earnest thought. It did feel… nice. Full, warm. “I’m glad you’ve put me on to this,” she admitted. “And for you?”

Dimitri settled back in behind her, seeming relieved at the news. “You’re so soft,” he whispered, rubbing gently at her belly with his thumbs. “Inside and outside.”

Edelgard swallowed, a pinched, drawn sort of feeling creeping into her thoughts. “I could bear to be softer,” she replied.

“What, here?” he asked, cupping one of her breasts - and it drove an astonished giggle out of her, the way he pinched at her nipple over her gown. “I’d say you’re just soft enough.”

“Dima!” she admonished him, flailing her legs, lightly kicking backward at his shins - but he just laughed, hugging her close and nuzzling into her neck right where she was ticklish, driving the breath from her lungs with the force of her laughter.

It was only as they were both melting back into unconsciousness following that episode that he murmured, “No, El, really. You’re exactly as soft as you need to be…”


	12. EdelDimiClaude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the other of the House Leader Threesome with two catpeople!!!! What an oddly specific concept for me to do twice over without even meaning to. At any rate, I remember this being one of those silly self-indulgent concepts that I just had to get out of my head because dogboy Dimitri is That Cute.

“Edelgard, you have  _ got _ to see this.”

The order came with a brush against her upper arm, the slightest of touches that had her jerking awake. She grumbled as she turned, readily resting her head on Claude’s shoulder as she went and forcing her eyes open, at a loss for what she was meant to be looking at. “This had better be important.”

“Oh, it is,” Claude whispered, brimming with delight. His head was turned toward Dimitri, who was lying on his side facing away from them.  _ “Look, _ Princess, I think - I think he’s forgotten which form he’s in.”

This sparked Edelgard’s interest. She frowned, then forced herself up onto one elbow with a groan. The first giveaway was the position Dimitri was sleeping in - his arms and legs were both stretched straight out in front of him, the same odd, stiff bracket-shaped position he always slept in as a dog.

The next was the faintest of tremors running through his limbs, the odd, directionless thump of his tail against the mattress, and, as Edelgard watched, a small, short, delightful little “woof!”

She exchanged a glance with Claude, who was wearing the same elated look that she imagined she was. “Seiros,” she squealed, edging closer, nudging Claude’s legs as she did. “I - I don’t see him  _ sleeping _ often, he’s always awake before we are -”

“This isn’t typical, I promise you that,” Claude laughed low, his own ears twitching in amusement. His slit pupils were blown wide in the dark, but Edelgard could only imagine Dimitri acting cute had contributed somewhat. “Whenever I drag myself into bed super late, he’s always just sleeping normally.”

“Is it bad that I’d really like to pet him?”

“Hey! If I’ve been lying here behaving myself for half an hour, you can too.”

“That isn’t what I meant, and you know it,” Edelgard sighed, reaching forward, petting that sliver of skin at Dimitri’s hip where his shirt rode up. “Good boy,” she purred, half-literally. “There’s a good boy.”

Dimitri’s tail wagged harder, then - he stiffened, jerked, and Edelgard drew her hand back as Dimitri rolled onto his back, his tail still swishing across the sheets as he languidly drew his tongue over his lips. His eye was still heavy-lidded and sleepy as he blinked slowly and Edelgard couldn’t fight back her smile.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she murmured, watching him roll the rest of the way over, drawing out a groan, still wagging his tail and affectionately licking the side of Claude’s face. She exchanged another look with Claude.

“Hey, bud,” Claude whispered, “You know you’re - you know you’re more  _ person _ than  _ dog _ right now, right?”

Edelgard watched Dimitri’s brow crease with confusion before he caught a glimpse of his hand where it lay across Claude’s chest. He drew in a tight gasp and abruptly rolled back over, throwing an arm over his face as he groaned in embarrassment. Edelgard cupped her mouth, fighting down her laughter, but Claude wasn’t nearly so cautious. His guffaw tore right out of him even  _ with _ the reproachful look Dimitri sent him over his shoulder.

“If it - if it helps -” Edelgard attempted, to her immediate detriment because it drew attention to  _ her _ laughter, “you were  _ very _ cute.”

Dimitri folded both hands over his face and groaned again; Edelgard fretted for a moment, her giggles finally dying, but then he straightened, shook himself, and shifted. Edelgard watched long golden fur grow in and obscure the more uncomfortable parts of the transformation, the entire procedure taking only a few moments. Claude reached out to pet him the moment he was done.

“Playing the ‘I can’t be embarrassed when I’m just a dog’ card, I see,” Claude teased, then seemed to regret it immediately when Dimitri stepped directly on his stomach. He crossed over Claude’s body, pausing to snuffle affectionately at Edelgard’s face, then collapsed between them with a much more recognizably doglike groan. 

“I suppose that marks me as the favorite for the night,” Edelgard hummed, confirmed by the wagging of Dimitri’s tail.

“I’d watch myself if I were you,” Claude retorted, reaching across himself to pet firmly at Dimitri’s chest and shoulder. “It’s not too late for  _ me _ to transform and sit right on your face while you sleep.”

“Why, Claude,” Edelgard cooed, rubbing affectionately at Dimitri’s belly, “If you’d like to sit on my face, you need only ask.”

Dimitri’s bark of laughter was all too literal.


	13. Dimivain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...... Even more dogboy stuff because I'm out of CONTROL. I'm out of CONTROOOOOL
> 
> I thought it'd be cute if dogboy babies are born as full dogs and just lived like that for awhile, and then I was like, who would be really cute about that? Sylvain? Let's give Sylvain some puppies.

Sylvain’s eyes were brimming with tears as he gazed down at the results of his - literal - labor. Dimitri could hardly fault him for that much - his were, too - but there was something of a relief in seeing Sylvain take to them so eagerly, gazing down on them with such love in his eyes. Dimitri had heard accounts of humans giving birth to hybrid babies and being repulsed, even disgusted that  _ animals _ had been borne from their bodies, but Sylvain seemed not to feel that way; it made Dimitri relieved and proud in equal measure.

Sylvain  _ was _ a little sloppy, and Dimitri couldn’t hold that against him either. Annette had been assisting Mercedes and had been perhaps a little overeager in anesthetizing him, and as a result of both that and the fatigue of giving birth, Sylvain was… well. It was a comfort to know that their pups were made of sturdier stuff than human babies seemed to be.

“Dima,” Sylvain murmured, and as Dimitri watched, those tears began to spill over; he had his chin propped on his own chest where their five little ones rested, easily spanning the breadth of Sylvain’s pecs with room to spare. “Did you… Did you look like this? Back then?”

“I did,” Dimitri confirmed, and Sylvain’s head rolled more than lifted, confronting him with his pretty, dewy brown eyes. “I spent my first year as a dog. They should shift for the first time when the mass of their bodies is roughly equivalent in each form.”

“That’s so cute,” Sylvain slurred, and Dimitri had the sense that now was not the time to explain the particulars of hybrid maturation; instead, he felt his face break into a smile as Sylvain turned back to their pups, tracing a tender finger down one of their spines. “They’re so cute,” he added around a sob, and Dimitri reached forward to squeeze his arm.

“Would you care to decide who will be named what?” Dimitri nudged him. “You went to the trouble of delivering, so I feel it’s only appropriate that you decide.”

“Mm, yeah,” Sylvain muttered, searching among them and gently picking up the only girl - she was almost pure gold, with a white stripe down her nose. “Here’s Gerdie, obviously.”

“You mean Gertrude?” Dimitri chuckled, accepting the little bundle as Sylvain passed it over; she squeaked in indignation, but quieted as Dimitri hugged her to his chest.

“Yeah, Gerdie,” Sylvain said, barely acknowledging him. He petted the pure-gold one from the tip of his nose to his little round rear in one stroke. “And Lambert matches you.”

“Lovely.”

“Here’s another Blaiddyd baby.” He scooped up the pup with gold and white patches. “Uh - what was your grandfather’s name, again?”

“Klaus?”

“Yeah,” Sylvain cooed, bringing Klaus closer and kissing him gently. “The second.”

“Third.”

“Mhm.” The next pup was a ruddy color - Sylvain picked him up and stared blankly at him. “Dima,” he whispered, a little shamefully, “I don’t remember the Gautier names.”

Dimitri burst into laughter. “I don’t recall picking any Gautier names,” he reminded him, “In fact, you seemed quite averse to preserving any of them at all.”

“Then what…”

“We also considered Bernard and Markus.”

“Okay, then this is Bernard,” Sylvain mumbled, placed him down, and scooped up Klaus again. “And this -”

“Dearest, you’ve already named him,” Dimitri whispered, plucking Klaus from Sylvain’s hand and tucking him in his own arm, next to his sister. “That was Klaus.”

Sylvain gaped for a moment, then rasped, “Oh, I’m so tired.”

“I know, love,” Dimitri comforted him, still shaking with laughter; Gertrude saw fit to howl squeakily in defiance, and Sylvain’s eyes twinkled with adoration. Dimitri indicated the last remaining pup - a red and white one - and said, “This is Markus, then.”

“Hi, Markus,” Sylvain whispered. “Daddy’s sorry, baby.”

“I’m certain he’ll find it in his heart to forgive you.” He arched his neck forward, nuzzling Sylvain’s forehead before kissing it. “Now, you had better rest before we experience any more mix-ups.”

“Mhm,” Sylvain breathed, sinking back, nudging the three remaining pups closer together on his chest. He stared for a moment, then slurred, “Dima, when’re they… gonna wag their tails, like you?”

Dimitri paused, only then realizing that he’d been beating a percussive sort of rhythm against the mattress in his delight. It took another shining look from Sylvain - all too pleased with himself for this most ineffectual of teases - for that rhythm to find itself again.

“Before you can so much as blink, my darling,” he assured him.


	14. Dimivain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And one more, for pure self-indulgence's sake. I just really enjoy writing about boobs....
> 
> It feels so wrong leaving this at fourteen chapters!!! I might really write a ficlet today just to be able to finish this collection. It'll have to come after I edit and post another thing, though. That's right, y'all get five ficlets AND a kinkmeme fill! Lucky you!

Sylvia couldn’t help but think that the communal baths at Garreg Mach were the best thing that ever happened to her.

With the money Garreg Mach had stashed away, they probably  _ could _ afford a separate bathhouse for the boys, but the monastery was so  _ old _ and so needlessly devoted to keeping its original structures  _ intact _ that it didn’t seem to occur to anybody to channel money into an addition. Crossing over between bathing times was generally discouraged, but all Sylvia really needed to do to get around that was say the professor had sent her on an errand that ran long to get in with the boys, to feel their eyes on her when they thought she wasn’t looking, to stare openly at them.

Sometimes that excuse didn’t work, though. Tonight it hadn’t, because training actually  _ had _ run long - past the segregated bathing hours and into the period when no student would dare bathe for fear that someone of the opposite sex - or worse, some fossil like  _ Tomas - _ would see them. She sighed deep, and Demi looked up.

“Is something the matter, Sylvia? I didn’t push too hard, did I?” she asked, and Sylvia shook her head, turning back to scrubbing her legs. “I know I can be -”

“It’s  _ really _ not that, Demi,” Sylvia assured her, reaching for the jug they’d filled from the bath and rinsing her shins. “I just don’t like bathing late.”

“Ah. You’ve always preferred to keep clean…”

“More like I don’t fancy  _ Hanneman _ walking in on us,” Sylvia countered, letting her voice pitch upward in mirth. “What do you think he’d say, looking at two cuties like us? Do you think his glasses’d fog up?”

Demi, true to her nature, colored at the implication. “I’m - I’m sure he’d behave himself,” she reasoned, and Sylvia couldn’t help but pout. “Besides which, I find myself coming in after or before hours rather frequently. I’ve never seen him or anybody else, barring only Felicity.”

“Well, now I’m just disappointed,” Sylvia joked. That, at least, prompted a titter. “What would  _ you _ be doing up that late, though?”

“Oh,” Demi murmured. She turned away, curling into herself. Sylvia watched her breasts flatten against her thighs as she leaned down, scrubbing pointlessly at some invisible flaw on her skin. “Just… de-stressing. Nightmares, and all.”

Sylvia swallowed. “Right,” she said, and stopped there. This conversation had veered, all at once, into dangerous territory; Sylvia had never been particularly good at this, so she needed to come up with a change of subject,  _ fast. _ Her eyes were still fixated on Demi’s breasts, the way they came together and shone in the low light. When had they gotten so  _ big?  _ “Hey, do your tits float?”

Demi’s eyes widened; her head whipped around and she gaped. “Pardon?” she coughed.

Sylvia internally lambasted herself. Demi was the  _ last _ person she needed to have this conversation with, but she might as well commit. She shrugged and said, “Mine float. I wanted to know if yours floated, now that you’re all grown up.”

Demi’s mouth hung agape. She blinked rapidly a few times, then said, “I - first of all, the condescension is not appreciated -”

“You are! You’re grown up! How is that  _ condescension -” _

“And - and how is that appropriate conversation -”

“Girls talk about this all the time! It’s not  _ my _ fault our upbringings were so weird and repressed - in  _ fact, _ I’ll have you know I saw some Black Eagle girls feeling each other up just the other day,” Sylvia rushed to defend herself, crossing her arms. Demi’s eyes flitted downward and Sylvia felt a rush of familiar contentment at - wait, but Demi was a girl, that wasn’t right. “Honestly, maybe you wouldn’t  _ need _ to de-stress so much if you didn’t have such a stick up your ass about this.”

It was almost certainly the wrong thing to say.

Demi’s eyes alighted with - with  _ something, _ and Sylvia almost flinched back. Demi’s arms spread and Sylvia very nearly thought she was about to  _ attack _ her when -

“Fine, then,” Demi rumbled, daring her with her gaze, “If you’re the expert, then I’ll gladly listen. Come forward and grope to your heart’s content.”

Her voice was deeper than it normally was - something in the tone told Sylvia that she’d made her bed, and at this point it was best just to lie in it. And - and her breasts  _ were _ tempting in how they drooped to either side, heavy and inviting and begging to be held, her areolae puffy and a rich sort of pink in color. Her mouth felt at once dry and  _ hot _ as she edged closer, lifting one knee onto the bench, her breath catching when Demi straddled it to welcome her in. Some youthful part of Demi’s consciousness seeped through into her expression, cutely flinching when Sylvia grasped first one breast, then the other; Sylvia’s gentle petting of her nipples with her thumbs was her own unconscious attempt to soothe her old, beloved friend, even as her cunt throbbed, even as her mouth begged to find a nipple and abuse it every way she knew how.

Sylvia grasped one nipple between her thumb and forefinger and  _ pulled, _ breathless at how the heft of Demi’s breast hung between her chest and her hand. Then she pushed, watching flesh bulge from between her fingers, resting her weight on her heel and unconsciously grinding down.

And then she sprung away as a door opened and a familiar, rasping voice called, “I had best not discover any untoward behavior taking place as I settle in for my evening ablutions!”

She exchanged a disbelieving look with Demi, her heart pounding, just on the border of laughter.

“I  _ told _ you,” she mouthed, watching Hanneman emerge from the steam.


	15. DimiDue + Sylvain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And as promised, because I hated the asymmetry of having this up with just fourteen chapters for a whole week, I went ahead and minificced today, too, lmao. I ALSO JUST HAD THE IDEA IN MY HEAD..... I've been meaning to do DimiDue for AWHILE now and once the idea was there, I just couldn't NOT do it.
> 
> Dedue is hard to write!!! I'll have to have another crack at him sometime soon.

The night had arrived. Dimitri was at last going to mate and be mated with the man he loved.

They’d placed a great deal of care in choosing the perfect time to do it; they were both a fair ways out from their respective ruts, so as to provide the smallest chance of an instincts-related incident; they both had cleared their schedules so that they might have one full day just to enjoy each other, and to accommodate in case the event triggered an impromptu rut in either or both of them; they had a willing omegan supervisor to tend to them in case their more violent urges  _ did _ manifest by mending them with healing magic and calming them with omegan hormones.

That last point was, perhaps, the flimsiest. Not because it was a particularly unwise decision - rather, several experts had advised that they at least consider the precaution - but because their omega was… less than ideal.

As Dimitri gasped into the sheets, slowly,  _ ever so slowly _ adjusting to the feeling of Dedue’s fingers inside him, he heard -  _ smelled - _ the evidence to that disappointment all too clearly. Another barely-suppressed gasp from the bedside drew his gaze, every instinct in him commanding that he  _ snarl _ at Sylvain.

Sylvain cocked an eyebrow, his dick in one hand and his other playing languidly in his cunt, offering a teasing smirk. “What? Might as well enjoy the view while I get the chance.”

It was not Mercedes’s fault that her heats had grown irregular, nor that Sylvain was the only other former classmate of theirs who knew Physic. It was only  _ reasonable  _ that they favor him above Annette, who would have had to get relatively close in case the pair got snappy with each other, but Dimitri didn’t see how Sylvain was helping matters by being  _ right there. _

Dedue. Focus on Dedue, who he had loved so dearly since long before the war. Focus on those fingers, so much thicker than his own, sinking into him as if they belonged there, crooking into his sweet spot. Dimitri released a sigh, sounding blissfully sweet even to his own ears, and very nearly chuckled when he heard Dedue’s muted response - an inquisitive sort of noise, as if to ask whether he was alright. Dedue was quieter from his nerves - something Dimitri had learned to parse from so long knowing him - and as charming as it was Dimitri found himself itching for something to fill the silence.

Well, something that  _ wasn’t _ the slick sound of Sylvain fingering himself.

“De-Dedue -” Dimitri faltered, reaching back, seeking - and Dedue’s hand found his, squeezing reassuringly. “I’d like to -  _ oh, _ I’d like to see you -”

“Of course,” Dedue permitted, drawing back, inviting Dimitri to roll onto his back before he aligned himself over top of him once more. The addition, a whisper of  _ “Dimitri” _ came a short while later, while he traced his lips down the slope of his jaw, hesitating just above Dimitri’s gland. The proximity of it - and, though he was somewhat shamed to admit it even to himself, the  _ danger _ of having another alpha so close - made Dimitri gasp, his legs falling open, begging with every tool he had available to him. He wanted Dedue inside him -  _ needed _ it, rather.

“Hey, if you don’t get in there, I very well might,” Sylvain quipped, sounding all too pleased with himself, and Dimitri’s legs snapped shut, both his and Dedue’s faces swiveling sharply toward him. He held up his hands as if in surrender.

“Sylvain,” Dedue said, and that was all the warning their friend needed; he sank a little further down in his chair, his eyes flickering between the pair, and seemed content to stay quiet. The danger in Dedue’s tone only heightened Dimitri’s arousal, and he decided, this time, to lean into that sensation. He rutted up into Dedue’s hold, placing a little more power into the grip on his shoulders, and nipped at his collarbone, feeling a strange, competitive delight when he felt Dedue’s attention gravitate back toward him. He wondered whether this is how omegas felt, this longing… 

“Dedue,” he murmured, his voice sounding so high, so desperate, “Please - now - I need you.”

He was ready for Dedue to ask whether he was certain, because he always used to - but no, now Dedue had faith in Dimitri’s certainty, in his faith. Dimitri felt his throat bob against his mouth and whined as Dedue gently lifted his leg, slotted himself into place, pressed  _ in - _

“Finally,” Sylvain whispered, and for once Dimitri could only agree; as tense and expectant as he was, having Dedue sink into him at last was - it was - it was positively _indescribable,_ overwhelming and blissful and -

Dedue seemed, in his understated way, to concur. When he gasped “Dimitri!” and squeezed him tight, Dimitri felt that  _ thing _ again, that odd sort of delight that he could only describe as  _ omegan - _ that feeling of being protected, of being wanted, of delighting in the power Dedue could lord over him. His next breath emerged as a whine, and his next as a cry, and his next as a scream, and Dedue was  _ quiet _ but no less  _ wanting. _ He grasped every part of Dimitri that he could reach, draping himself over him like a cloak, and for as long as they’d longed for each other it was only a matter of course that it concluded quite quickly.

Dedue went first - he released in what felt like a torrent, coating Dimitri’s insides in  _ thick hot wet sticky oh oh oh  _ and there he went, too, arching into Dedue’s touch and gasping. It was all he could do.

And yet - in all that white-hot ecstasy, there emerged a single sound, clear as day, and it said, “Wait, did you even knot?”

Laughter. “You didn’t knot! Ha - I mean, everybody gets nervous, but -”

Dimitri and Dedue, joined as they were, spoke as one. “Get out.”

**Author's Note:**

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